


just one of those days

by spideycheol



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Referenced Eating Disorders, Stress, Tired Wonwoo, Wonwoo Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 16:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16747618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideycheol/pseuds/spideycheol
Summary: when wonwoo wakes up, he knows it's going to be a bad day. his head hurts, he felt out of it, and all he wants is to get back in bed. but he also knew it was just one of those days, so he ignores it and pushes through seventeen's schedules. at least, until he can't.





	just one of those days

**Author's Note:**

> this is something i wrote a while ago during a bad day so please bear with it.

        From the moment his alarm went off, the insistent blaring of his cell phone rudely jerking him from his slumber, Wonwoo knew that today was going to be one of those days.

        His eyes fluttered open after the third rotation of his alarm began, his face screwing up in annoyance as he rolled over and reached underneath his pillow for the source of the noise. His vision was partially blurred as the screen of his phone lit up in his hand, the time displayed in large, white numbers. Wonwoo hit the stop button, silencing the loud ringing just as a long list of notifications that had come in during the night flooded his lock screen. He didn’t start to scroll through them like he norm— his eyes were growing sore from the light, and just the thought of reading the messages and emails and actually having to respond tired him out. Exhaustion wrapped him up tightly, squeezing him all despite having gotten a full nights rest.

        “Wonwoo, get up.” He could vaguely see a figure poking his head around the door frame, a playful smile toying on his face. It was Seungcheol. “We have a lot to get done with today. You’re in the bathroom after Hoshi.” Wonwoo wanted to tell Seungcheol then that he didn’t want to go after Soonyoung— he didn’t want to get ready to trudge through hours of makeup and photoshoots anymore, nor did he want to spend hours in their practice room later that evening. He didn’t want to move at all. He could only allow his worn bones to sink into the mattress deeper, as if it could possibly swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to face the world again.

        “Okay,” he replied still, his aching body protesting as he slowly pushed himself into an upright position. His breaths were slow as he listened to the sound of Seungcheol retreating down the hallway, floorboards creaking under foot, banging his fist on doors as he began his process of waking everyone else up. Wonwoo wished he wouldn’t make so much noise just as dreadful thump began to pulse behind his eyes. He wanted for the world to be quiet just for a second; to pause so he could wrap himself back up in his blanket and slowly work through the dark tangles that had slowly began to cloud his mind. An overwhelming sense of sadness gripped him, telling him he wasn't cut out for this life; that he shouldn't be here anymore. Wonwoo knows he isn't supposed to listen to the voice, but it was the gentlest thing he'd heard all morning and he couldn't help but appreciate the honesty.

        He stared at the dark fabric of his comforter, his thumb tracing the patterned blocks. It took him a moment to realize that he could only vaguely feel it underneath his fingers.

       “Wonwoo, you're up!” He could hear Hoshi’s loud voice call out from the hallway. Against his will and all of the protesting limbs in his body, he slowly detangled himself from his covers and grabbed his contacts container off his nightstand. It was just one of those days, and he would get through it like he always did.

       He went through the motions of his daily morning routine slowly. Wonwoo realized that he didn’t have the energy to cleanse his face or follow through with the other skincare products that normally filled his routine, and he hadn't for a week at least. He could only splash his face with water and hope that their makeup artists could fix his face for him and maybe do something with his hair, which was starting to look a little greasy with product build up. He decided would toss a baseball cap over the dark strands before they left that morning.

        “Wonwoo, I need the mirror.” He could hear a voice say through the door, tone slightly congested but Mingyu nonetheless. Wonwoo didn’t make any attempt to reply though, as if he couldn't really register that Mingyu was actually speaking to him, focusing instead on his task of fitting his other contact lens on over his right eye. _One step at a time today, Wonwoo. You can do this._ Blinking slowly, he felt his eyes adjust once again to the lens that sat over his pupils. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, becoming lost in his dishevelled appearance. _Was this really me?_ His face was blotchy, his under eye circles darker than usual. His hair was another mess— he couldn’t find his hair brush, but even if he had it, he wouldn’t brush through the dark strands. It seemed too much effort. He just wanted to go back to sleep. “Hyung?” Mingyu’s voice came through again, and it took Wonwoo a moment to clear his head again and formulate a coherent thought. “Hyung, are you okay in there?”

        “Yes.” Wonwoo said carefully, reaching out absentmindedly to unlock the bathroom door and tug it open. Mingyu stood before him, fully dressed and presentable for the day ahead of them, a hair brush in hand. The taller boy studied Wonwoo’s face for a second, searching for any cues that would tell him if there was something wrong. Wonwoo knew how to mask it by now though. It was easier to go through these days without the questions. "Sorry, I'm tired." He explained.

        “Joshua wants you to get dressed quickly so you can eat something before we go. He has your vitamins.” Mingyu told him, still curious but sensing nothing entirely out of the ordinary with his friend. Wonwoo forced a smile and nodded in reply, side-stepping past Mingyu and heading back down the hallway back to his room without saying another word. His head was spinning, his vision dancing, but he knew he had impressions to keep up. As he got dressed, he tried to tell his exhausted body any lie that would get him through thirty minute intervals. _Just get dressed and then you can breathe. Just walk down those stairs and let Joshua dote on you. Just take your supplements and get into the car. You can sleep there. The day will be over before you know it. You can do it. You’ve done it before._

        But the day wasn’t over before he knew it.

        The stylists started yelling at him as soon as he sunk into a chair, the eldest of the group complaining about how he hadn’t been washing his hair with the right conditioner and now it was greasy and heavy. Next there was a complaint about how he clearly hadn’t been keeping up with his extensive skincare routine, the effects of it catching up as they were forced to conceal a number of stress pimples that were beginning to crop up. Wonwoo felt more exhausted sitting in that chair than he had all morning. It was hardly seven AM, yet he already didn’t think he could make it through the fast-paced environment he’d been thrown into.

        The next hour consisted of Wonwoo being dressed and finally sent out with the rest of his unit team— Seungcheol, Mingyu, and the youngest, Vernon. The Hip Hop team was the first of the three units to be let onto set to start getting their group photos out of the way. Wonwoo knew what was expected of him as he settled down next to the boys who were laughing at something Mingyu had said. Wonwoo hadn’t heard it, but out of kindness and the urge to maintain an image, he still pushed forth a smile. The photographer snapped the first picture. 

        A few more group photos were taken in the room set before they were shuffled to move elsewhere and start doing individual photos. Wonwoo wanted to grab their leader and pull him aside, shake him and tell him that his face was tired of forcing a smile that only made him feel sick; tell him that his head pounded harder with every picture that was taken; tell him that he was one step away from bursting into tears and quitting. But he was expected to be stronger than that. He watched Hansol for a moment, the boy two years his junior, and saw how he was going through the motions almost effortlessly. Wonwoo knew that he wasn’t the only one on the verge of breaking, and he knew he had a duty to show the younger ones a good example to follow. There was no time for him to be weak.  _You get this way far too often. You just need to toughen up._ So Wonwoo pushed himself to get through the shift. He forced himself to pass through the hours. When their lunch break came, he stared blankly at the food Joshua placed in front of him and couldn’t find the desire to eat it.

        “I’m still full.” He told him. Joshua gave him a look.

        “No, you can’t be.” Joshua told him, brows furrowing in confusion. “You barely ate your breakfast. I know you’re dieting right now, but I’m not gonna let you faint on me.”

        “I’m fine, hyung.” Wonwoo smiled tightly. “I just feel a little nauseous right now.” Joshua watched him worriedly, his chin resting on the back of his hand.

        “How long have you felt sick?”

        “It’s nothing,” he insisted. “Promise. I’ll let you know if I feel worse.” That seemed to convince Joshua partially, because he finally forced himself to turn his head and invest himself in the conversation that was going on next to him. Seungkwan was animatedly telling Vernon and Chan a story, and Joshua was smiling as he listened to the youngest boys talk. Wonwoo pushed his food away from him and got up, heading over to the long couch tucked against the wall in the corner of the room. There was clothing strewn across the back of the sofa seat, mostly outerwear, so he grabbed a sweater that smelled nice and tucked it close to his chest as he laid down. A nap would help. Only a few more hours of the shoot and then dance practice. Then he could get back in bed and sleep everything off.

        Wonwoo had only been asleep for what felt like ten minutes before he was rudely awaken by the loud shouts of the other 12 boys occupying the dressing room. With a tired sigh, he rolled over onto his side so he could face the wall. His head was still killing him, pulsing painfully as he tried to hold off the urge to cry. He didn’t want to move. He wanted to just go home already. He wished desperately that everyone would just shut up and let him wallow.

       The hours rolled by and finally the shoots were done with. The cars were already waiting for them outside so they could head back to their label’s building— the next thing in their schedules for the rest of the evening was dance practice. Soonyoung had been trying to teach them the new choreography for their title song for the last week or so, so by now they were focusing particularly on transitions and formations. Wonwoo knew that he would need a clear head to work well into the night with the other members on the routine, but he couldn’t seem to shake the heavy feeling of dread that settled over his shoulders and wrapped him up tightly. 

        Wonwoo changed his clothes slowly, not wanting to exert any more energy than need be. He wasn’t sure how he’d make it through practice, but he knew they had a deadline to be ready for and he couldn’t hold everyone back just because he was in one of his moods. So Wonwoo went to practice. The music was loud— far too loud. It overwhelmed his senses and he could feel the bass shake the floor and vibrate up his aching bones. He pushed through it though, stumbling but still trying.

        The first mistake he made was faltering on a step and stumbling into Jihoon, subsequently knocking him off of balance. Jihoon turned to look at him, face screwed together in mild annoyance that he'd been made to lose his focus. Soonyoung, noticing the disruption at the back, quickly stopped the music and called out to them. "Is there a problem?" He asked, all twelve boys looking at Wonwoo, who was beginning to look worse for wear.

        "My mistake," Wonwoo croaked out with a dry mouth, his chest heaving with exhaustion. "I'm sorry."

        "It's alright, let's try again." Junhui interjected quickly, shooting Wonwoo a gentle smile. Wonwoo smiled back at him weakly, thankful for the boy that seemed to know when Wonwoo was uncomfortable with the attention.

        So Soonyoung turned the music back on, counting the beats as everyone shook the tension off and got back into their positions. Wonwoo placed a hand to his chest that rose and fell with every gasp for breath his sucked in. His heart hammered behind his ribcage, beating almost aggressively. Wonwoo could understand why it wanted out of his body; he wanted that too.

        Every time he would make a mistake, the others would shoot him a look. First, when he had accidentally stumbled into Woozi and knocked him off balance. They’d had to start the chorus all over again. Then next when he accidentally kicked Seungkwan in the calf. He was an absolute wreck, but then again there was nothing he could do about it. When Soonyoung finally called five for a water break, Wonwoo felt his vision start to lose focus. He couldn’t feel the t-shirt that hung loosely around his thin waist anymore, and then he couldn’t feel his feet rooting him to the ground. His vision went out of focus, and suddenly he couldn’t really see the mirror opposite him _. I need out of here_ , Wonwoo thought.

        It felt like his world tipped over when he tried to take a step towards the door, and suddenly his footing was gone and he slammed to the ground on his knees. He vaguely heard someone call his name-- "Wonwoo, be more careful, yeah?" He thought he should move to get back to his feet, but his brain was slow and his body was even slower. _Lie down,_ he told himself. _Breathe. In and out. In and out._  

        So then he was on his back, staring up at the ceiling, but the lights were hot and too bright and he felt so overwhelmed. So he started to cry. These horrible, gut-wrenching sobs that shook his whole body and made him feel utterly pathetic. He wailed, his chest shuddering as it struggled for air. He was panicking, his throat closing in and his breaths coming in sharp intervals. He was crying on his back in the middle of the practice room for everyone to see. _It was just one of those days, yet here you are being an absolute failure._ "Wonwoo?" He heard a gentle voice say, and then there was a hand resting on his chest and carefully pulling him up. "Wonwoo, it's okay. You're safe, you're alright."

        "I--" he choked out, his hands reaching to dig nails into his arms. He could only feel a dull pressure, but it was enough to take his mind off of the crippling anxiety that squeezed his lungs. He could feel hands in his hair, gently carding through the strands. He liked how it felt.

        “Why didn’t you tell me?” It was Joshua’s voice. It was always Joshua that knew what to do when he got this way. Wonwoo didn't reply- he couldn't. His head was pounding so badly now, forcing his eyes shut and his face into his knees. He couldn't hear them talking now, focusing instead on the heaving of his chest and the thudding of his heart.       

        When Wonwoo’s senses returned to him, he was sitting on a bench in the hallway, his head tucked between his knees and a hand rubbing slow circles in his back.

        “You're safe.” He heard Mingyu saying, his words squeezed but determined nonetheless. “It’s okay. It's going to be okay.”

        “I’m sorry.” Wonwoo choked out, his body tensing up as a sigh shook his body. “I’m sorry. It’s just not a good day. I’m sorry.” The younger boy leaned forward and leaned his head on Wonwoo’s back, holding onto him and letting out a tired sigh.

        “It’s alright.” Mingyu mumbled carefully. “You’ll be alright.”

        “I wanna go home.” Wonwoo said miserably.

       “I know. We’re all here, Wonu.” Mingyu reminded him. “We’re going back soon. Don’t worry.” Wonwoo let out another tired sigh, his chest squeezed with his anxiety. He wished he felt normal. He wished he wasn’t so terrified. He wished nobody had to see him like this. But he knew this feeling would pass. Eventually.

      It was just one of those days.


End file.
